


Summer

by marshmallowmischief



Series: Sanders Sides/TS One Shots [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fighting, Kissing without consent, M/M, Swearing, cursing, hints of separation anxiety, sudden outbursts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:26:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21877366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marshmallowmischief/pseuds/marshmallowmischief
Summary: Emile and Remy have their first argument since becoming friends.
Relationships: Dr. Emile Picani/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Remile
Series: Sanders Sides/TS One Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576192
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Summer

He was exhilarating. There was no stopping him. He was going, going, gone before you could bat an eye. The blooming wildflowers of summer matched his colorful demeanor. He was practically buzzing with excitement every second of every day. Remy wasn’t sure he could keep up with such a rambunctious man, but somehow he managed. 

Emile Picani was a mystery that Remy never wanted to solve. He yearned to learn more and more about his longtime friend. He wanted the thrill of something new while also craving familiarity; that fleeting sense of comfort and knowing that he experienced when he was with Emile. Every day with him was an adventure, but every moment together felt like home.

Remy mused that he was turning into quite the sap. 

“Remy! Remington! Hey! I’m talkin’ to you, ya silly goose!” Emile snapped his fingers in front of his roommate. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah, you’re still here.” 

“Of course I’m still here! We live together! Don’t be mean!” Emile said with a (very) fake pout. “I asked you a question.” 

“Which was..?” 

“What would you like for dinner tonight? I’m thinking we go out, since our fridge is tragically empty thanks to a certain someone.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

“Soooo, whatcha craving tonight?” 

“Hmm…” _‘Love and affection.’_ “Pizza.”

“Krusty Krab pizza! Is the pizza! For you and meee~!” Emile sang happily. Remy noticed that when he smiled his eyes scrunched up to the point where they were almost closed. He tucked that information away as Emile dug his keys from his backpack. “It’s a date!” 

_‘He’s gonna be the death of me…’_

The trip to the pizza parlor went like most car rides with Emile do (“The car doesn’t move until seat belts are on, Rems! Now, which soundtrack should we listen to?”), which was to say mostly uneventful. Emile encouraged Remy to sing along to Hakkuna Matata and almost ran a stop light because he was too busy riffing. Every day was an adventure, for sure. 

Once at the tiny parlor, the two took their seats and ordered their usual meal. Emile had it memorized by now, which wasn’t surprising to Remy. Emile was the type to notice the little things and the big things about a person, and that included favorite foods. It was one of the many things Remy loved about the guy.

He choked on his drink at the last thought. _‘Since when am I using the L word?’_

Pizza arrived and was promptly devoured. Remy made sure to keep his mouth full to avoid meaningful conversation, much to the others dismay. The brunette felt a pang in his heart. He could see that there was something Emile wanted to say, but Remy didn’t feel ready for whatever deep psychoanalysis about his behavior the psychologist had in store. 

They sat for a while after they finished eating, as was normal for the two. They had a habit of staying past closing time just talking. This time, the silence was tangible and quite painful for both men. 

“Alright, what is it?” Remy said with a sigh. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“What’s on your mind? Spit it out, sunshine.” Remy failed to notice the red tinge to Emile’s cheeks as he busied himself with tracing the rim of his glass. 

“Well, you’ve been acting different since summer began, and I was just wondering if there was anything on your mind, Remy.” Emile said. 

“Well, there’s not, so you can drop the therapist voice, Em.” 

“I’m not using my therapist voice-” 

“Oh, like hell you’re not. You’re treating me like one of your patients again. We talked about this, babes. I’m not your fucking passion project.” 

“I never insinuated that you were,” Emile frowned for the first time that night. He kept his composure, but there was a slight hurt behind his eyes that only Remy would know to look for. “I just want to know why you don’t open up to me anymore. You’re keeping secrets again.” 

“I’m not… I’m not keeping secrets.” Remy ran a hand through his hair. “I’m just not telling you every little thing that goes through my head.” 

“It’s obvious that something’s bothering you. Now I won’t push it any further,” Emile covered Remy’s hand with his own. “But I’m here for you, Remy. Seriously.” 

“Whatever,” Remy pulled his hand away to wave to the waiter. “Check please!” 

They paid their tab and left the restaurant fuming at each other. The ride back was unnaturally silent. Remy’s words rang heavy in the air between them as they marched up the stairs to their loft apartment. Once they were inside Emile tossed down his keys and turned to Remy with his arms crossed. 

“You’re going to tell me what’s going on or I’ll- I’ll-” 

“You’ll what? Yell at me? Get mad? Hmm?” Remy took a step closer. “You gonna kick me out? Ghost me? Tell me to fuck off like he did?” 

“Remy….” 

“Go ahead! Fuckin’ do it! I don’t need him or anyone else in my life, especially not you!” 

“Remy.” Emile took a step closer. 

“Go a-fucking-head, Emile!” Remy yelled, hot tears trailing down his cheeks. “Because you know what? I’ll be fine! Always have been, always will be!” 

“Remy, stop!” 

“What!?” 

“Remy, I’m not going to leave you. I don’t know who ‘he’ is, but this person has obviously been on your mind for quite some time. I’m not your therapist, but I am your friend. And I’m not going anywhere.” Emile took both of Remy’s hands in his, his thumb gently stroking white knuckles. “I promise, Remy. I’m here.” 

Remy is not one you would call a risk taker, but as he recalled his musings from earlier in the day, he came to a conclusion: Remy wanted to solve the mystery that was Emile Picani, and that required taking a risk. 

“I love you,” he said, barely audible.

“I know you’re not going to want to open up immediately,” Emile paused. “Wait, what was that?” 

“I said, I love you.” Remy repeated, louder this time.

“I- Oh.” Emile’s face lit up with blush. 

“You don’t have to say it back. You don’t have to hug me. Hell, you don’t even have to put up with me anymore. I’ll pack my shit and go, babe, just say the word and I’ll-” 

Remy found his words interrupted with soft lips pressed against his. He blinked in surprise, taking in the sight that was his roommate- his crush- kissing him. Emile’s nose was scrunched up and his eyes were shut tight. It was the same face he made when he wished upon a shooting star. An innocent look that carried years of yearning for… something. 

As Remy moved his lips in sync with Emile’s, he thought that he might have an idea of what that something was.


End file.
